Disclaimer: I, sadly, don't own any rights to the A-Team but I'm willing to bid if someone's selling!

The black van jumped the exit ramp off the highway, catching serious air before cascading down onto all four wheels again. BA said a quick prayer that no major damage had been done. One arm shot out to brace himself on the dash as the steering wheel overcorrected, making the back of the van slide around on the road, kicking up dust and debris. The pedal hit the metal as soon as the tires found a straight path again and the van shot forward, pulling away a little from the flashing lights of the MP cars that were chasing them. BA would have been fine with all of the wear and tear on his baby, if only he had been driving instead of his adrenaline-junkie CO. One glance at the kid-in-a-candy-shop grin plastered on Hannibal's face and BA held his seat belt tight with one hand and gripped the armrest with the other.

"Lemme drive, man! You gonna get us killed!"

Hannibal's grin widened as he floored the gas pedal again, shooting out into an intersection just as the light turned red. A symphony of car horns filled the air as the military sedan that was closest to them blew the light to keep up.

"Don't worry, BA. We'll lose 'em! Piece of ca-."

Hannibal jerked the wheel hard to the left, barely making the turn into a side alley as the rest of that word died on his lips when another military car appeared in front of them, trying to cut them off. The chase car wasn't as successful and shot past the alley, crashing into their oncoming counterpart. The grating sound of metal on metal filled their ears and BA closed his eyes and said another prayer that the crash wasn't too bad. He looked up just in time to see Hannibal swerve a little too close to a street sign as they flew past. BA felt the shudder and heard the screech as the sign scratched the paint off his door.

"Now, BA…" Hannibal started, shooting a wary glance his way as he maneuvered out of the alley and into traffic again.

BA didn't respond. He'd fisted both hands and was trying to control his breathing. He kept telling himself if he slugged Hannibal now, they'd crash and the damage to his van would be even worse. He vowed to never leave his van in someone else's hands again, no matter how good a nice, cold carton of milk sounded. He'd been headed inside the convenience store, leaving Hannibal to pump the gas, when the military sedan had come screaming into the parking lot. BA had had no choice but to jump into the passenger seat and relinquish control over his pride and joy. From now on, he'd pump the gas and one of the damn fools could do the shopping.


"Thanks, Sergeant. Don't forget check-in." Hannibal reminded him as he pushed the van door closed and headed towards his apartment. The use of rank was a subtle reminder of the standing order.

The spinning tires as the van peeled off was a not-as-subtle reminder that BA was still mad. He scowled. Sucker was lucky he hadn't ended up with a black eye after BA saw the jagged scratch down the side of his ride. And who did Hannibal think he was talking to - Face? As if BA had ever missed a check-in! Well, ok. But it was one time and he'd been unconscious so it shouldn't count. Almost three years since they'd escaped from Bragg and over eighteen months that they'd been hiring themselves out to people with unique problems and still Hannibal reminded them all about the 8am and 8pm check-in. Every. Single. Day.

BA pulled out into traffic and headed to what passed for home this month. Finally. The day that had never seemed to end was finally coming to a close. The sun was edging toward the horizon, stretching the shadows east. Thinking back to that morning, BA should have known the day would be doomed.